Calm
His hands fluttered like butterflies. He couldn’t hold a pen to write. He couldn’t hold on to a drink without spilling half of it before it got to his lips. The tremors were constant. Sure he had a substance abuse problem but I don’t think that was what gave him the shakes. His hands were creatures that were separate from him. They shook and cried and looked unhinged when he could not. Years of standing at attention and doing the jobs that he had been ordered to do kept him wound up tight and unable to lose control. His hands were the barometers of his inner state of mind that kept him from lying to the rest of the world.
His name was Jake. I met him and his hands in a bar in Texas with a lot of red. I had been falling for months. I guess you could say that I landed beside Jake since that’s when my memory kicks in and actually lasts for a while. His mother had just died. I’m not a preacher and I don’t believe in serendipity or providence but I’m willing to believe in coincidence. There was a moment when our eyes met and it was like we found each other. It was a moment that made all the talking we did afterwards just details.
In me he found a pupil. In him I found a job and a reason to stop drinking.
His hands stopped and were still like marble when he held the gun. I put the cash into bags in over two hundred stores. His military background worked for us and we were never caught.
I came into the hotel room in Virginia after we’d done almost a complete tour of the United States. He had sent me out to get some ice. He was dead when I came back to the room. He had a smile on what was left of his face. I almost expected his hands to still be shaking.
From the year that we’d spent together, I knew that I was his only family. I’m sitting in the waiting room of a funeral home now under an assumed name getting him cremated.
I think I’m done robbing. I have the money in the suitcase. His share, too. I have enough to rent a small place for a year and maybe get a job here.
It all feels perfect.
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His name was Jake. I met him and his hands in a bar in Texas with a lot of red. I had been falling for months. I guess you could say that I landed beside Jake since that’s when my memory kicks in and actually lasts for a while. His mother had just died. I’m not a preacher and I don’t believe in serendipity or providence but I’m willing to believe in coincidence. There was a moment when our eyes met and it was like we found each other. It was a moment that made all the talking we did afterwards just details.
In me he found a pupil. In him I found a job and a reason to stop drinking.
His hands stopped and were still like marble when he held the gun. I put the cash into bags in over two hundred stores. His military background worked for us and we were never caught.
I came into the hotel room in Virginia after we’d done almost a complete tour of the United States. He had sent me out to get some ice. He was dead when I came back to the room. He had a smile on what was left of his face. I almost expected his hands to still be shaking.
From the year that we’d spent together, I knew that I was his only family. I’m sitting in the waiting room of a funeral home now under an assumed name getting him cremated.
I think I’m done robbing. I have the money in the suitcase. His share, too. I have enough to rent a small place for a year and maybe get a job here.
It all feels perfect.
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